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Oct. 15th, 2002 09:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wickedfleaFurthurnet rules, but it's brutal waiting for a show to finish downloading. I've been downloading Friday's Mule show for a day and a half, and it's probably going to take at least that much longer. But I guess you can expect that when there's probably a hundred people downloading from the one guy who taped the show. And there should be a copy showing up in my mail tomorrow anyway, so it's all good.
Oh, shit, I was still swept up in the good vibes from the concert the other night and forgot to write about the latest thing with my stepbrother. I called Mom on my way into the city, and we were talking about the cop or skip tracer or whatever he was showing up at their house. Mom said something about not wanting to be involved with any of it, that as far as she knew Fool was still in the halfway house up in Pennsylvania, blah, blah, blah . . . Wait--Pennsylvania? I hadn't heard about that. So yeah, it seems that Fool and his teenaged love thang needed money to support her drug habit--I guess that's the way Fool presented it--so they fucking broke into a Radio Shack somewhere in Pa. I guess he's already done the time or something, even though it only happened just recently. Hell, what do I know about how these things work? (Thankfully nothing.)
There's something really pathetic yet strangely funny about the fact that it was a Radio Shack. You see, when Fool lived with his mother--like until age fourteen or so--he used to live at the Radio Shack in Starkville. (Not literally, but almost.) I mean, every afternoon Fool would be up there just hanging out. Back then he was a real electronics geek. Well, he still is in a sense; until he sold it all, he had more sound equipment like PAs and soundboards and all that than you can imagine. He had thousands of dollars wrapped up in that stuff, and he did pretty well doing sound for bands all over the state--until he got really strung out. But anyway, yeah, he was Radio Shack Boy back in the day, so it's just hugely ironic (in an Alanis Morissette sense) that he picked a Radio Shack to knock off. It's not funny, but then again it sort of is. Anyway, what can you do but laugh?
And people wonder why I call him Fool. Friends used to ask me just after they'd met John, "Hey, I met that guy John the other day. So why do you guys call him Fool, anyway?" I'd say, "Just wait--you'll see." And inevitably they ended up calling him Fool in a couple of weeks.
Oh, shit, I was still swept up in the good vibes from the concert the other night and forgot to write about the latest thing with my stepbrother. I called Mom on my way into the city, and we were talking about the cop or skip tracer or whatever he was showing up at their house. Mom said something about not wanting to be involved with any of it, that as far as she knew Fool was still in the halfway house up in Pennsylvania, blah, blah, blah . . . Wait--Pennsylvania? I hadn't heard about that. So yeah, it seems that Fool and his teenaged love thang needed money to support her drug habit--I guess that's the way Fool presented it--so they fucking broke into a Radio Shack somewhere in Pa. I guess he's already done the time or something, even though it only happened just recently. Hell, what do I know about how these things work? (Thankfully nothing.)
There's something really pathetic yet strangely funny about the fact that it was a Radio Shack. You see, when Fool lived with his mother--like until age fourteen or so--he used to live at the Radio Shack in Starkville. (Not literally, but almost.) I mean, every afternoon Fool would be up there just hanging out. Back then he was a real electronics geek. Well, he still is in a sense; until he sold it all, he had more sound equipment like PAs and soundboards and all that than you can imagine. He had thousands of dollars wrapped up in that stuff, and he did pretty well doing sound for bands all over the state--until he got really strung out. But anyway, yeah, he was Radio Shack Boy back in the day, so it's just hugely ironic (in an Alanis Morissette sense) that he picked a Radio Shack to knock off. It's not funny, but then again it sort of is. Anyway, what can you do but laugh?
And people wonder why I call him Fool. Friends used to ask me just after they'd met John, "Hey, I met that guy John the other day. So why do you guys call him Fool, anyway?" I'd say, "Just wait--you'll see." And inevitably they ended up calling him Fool in a couple of weeks.
